Just A Dream
by KatieCullenSwan
Summary: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.
1. Chapter 1: New

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

**EdwardPOV**

The day started out like any other.

I woke up, drove the three miles to the gray building just on the edge of town, and said my hello's to the receptionist.

I'm nineteen, studying to work at mental asylum's as a career. For now, I don't go to college. Instead, I go to the asylum almost every day to study firsthand. My mother and father don't mind my choice to do this. Some people think it's odd that I never went to college, but I am much more experienced.

"Good morning, Rosalie." I said pleasantly, nodding my head to the blonde as I passed her front desk. She hardly glanced up, keeping her eyes level to the screen as she typed, but nodded back, smiling faintly before going back to concentrated.

I picked up a tan folder on the counter, shifting through it before snapping it shut and holding it under one arm. My steps were steady as I walked through the tiled, grey halls. I arrived in the doctor's lounge, setting the folder down and walking to the coffee machine. Although I didn't particularly like the taste, it kept me awake.

"Good morning, Alice." I said to the short, black-haired pixie who was bustling around the room. Technically, her name was Mary Alice, but none of us called her that. I noticed her eyes were slightly frantic and she couldn't stop moving. "Is anything wrong?" I asked, watching her as she moved around the room.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just, Kathryn didn't show up for work today and we got a new patient last night and I can't find any of 302's paperwork and I—" Alice said, her face growing more and more frantic. I interrupted her. "Alice. Calm." I said, smiling faintly. "We have more then enough staff on hand with out her, it was on the front desk—" I picked up the manilla folder I'd brought in and handed it to her. "—and we get new patients a lot. It's okay."

Alice sighed gratefully, falling back onto a brown chair, checking the contents of the folder. "Thank you sooo much. " She said gratefully. I nodded, raising an eyebrow. "So, when'd the new patient check in?" I said, although I wasn't really that curious. Alice seemed oddly eager, though.

"Oh, actually, Angela found her last night." She said, her eyes widening as she apparently recalled the events. I turned my head to look at her. "What do you mean, she found her?" I said, my interest peaked. "She was apparently in some ditch. Her arms were all cut up, possible drug use." She sounded like she was quoting the girls report

Alice's eyes drifted to the clock, and she bounced out of her seat. "Speaking of which, you could go bring her her breakfast." She suggested, picking up the folder and rushing out of the room. "WHAT ROOM IS SHE IN?" I yelled after her. "32!" She called back. I could hear her shoes clacking down the hall. Shrugging out of my seat, I made my way to the kitchen.

"Breakfast for room 32, please." I said quickly to the attendant. She nodded, disappearing into a back room for a couple minutes, and appearing again with a tray. She handed it to me, placing a little card with the number '32' on it. "Thanks." I said quickly.

Quietly, I made my way to the elevator. When I entered, there was a largish, dark-skinned woman already inside. It was my boss, Mariah. She didn't mind if we called her by her first name. She was pretty nice. She nodded quickly to me in hello, and I did the same. Her eyes drifted to the number on my tray.

"Oh, 32. The new patient?" She said, but I knew that she already knew. I nodded silently. "A little advice. Just drop it off, don't talk and try to hurry out." She advised. I turned to face her. "Isn't she in one of the full rooms?" I asked, confused. "Only for now. To see if she can handle it." She replied.

I think she was going to say something else, but the door open and we were on the second level. Stepping out, I made my way down the hall to room 32. For some strange reason, Mariah's words were sticking with me. I was intrigued to open the door, but for some reason, at the same time, I didn't want to.

_You're being stupid. _I told myself, rolling my eyes and swinging the door open.

Inside, it was dark, and I noticed the shades were pulled. I crept foreward, seeing the girl on the bed for the first time.

She was very pale, and very skinny. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and bandages wrapping both her arms up. But this wasn't what I noticed at first. I noticed her gorgeous face. She had dark chocolate hair and large, brown eyes framed by dark lashes.

Even with the gown, the bandages, the bruises on her bare legs; she was beautiful. I was stalled for a moment, but I remembered that I was here for a job. I blinked, stepping foreward again. She hadn't seemed to notice me. She was humming softly, her eyes staring blankly at the wall to her right.

The name plate above her bed read 'Isabella Swan'. I couldn't stop myself. "Isabella?" I said, stepping foreward again and setting the tray on the bedside table. She whipped her head around, her eyes studying me. She didn't respond.

"I brought you breakfast." I said, although it was obvious. "Um, because, you know, I thought you'd be hungry." I was stumbling over my words, uncomfortable. Isabella didn't answer. I watched as her eyes studied my face, and her mouth turned down in a frown, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, press the button if you need anything." I stumbled backwards, Isabella's mouth finally opening. A piercing scream filled my ears. I stared in horror as Isabella's eyes filled with terror and filled with tears. She bunched her blankets up to her chin, moving to the corner of her bed.

I spun out of the room, almost running into Mariah as she rushed into the room, Alice flanking her. She brushed past me, staring into Isabella's room. "What happened?" She asked my curtly, her normal playful mood evaporated into business. "I don't know—I just—I said hi and—" She pressed into the room, ushering Alice and I out and closing the door.

In mutual silence, Alice and I stood outside the door, listening as Mariah murmured a few choice words. Isabella's screams turned to whimpers, and then silence. We slunk away from the room, Alice leaving to attend to a different patient.

What had happened back there? I'd felt a strange attraction to this patient. I'd felt horrible when she'd screamed. I shook my head, to clear my head. It didn't work. What was wrong with me? Why had she screamed?

The day started out like any other, but when I drove home that night, my head was filled with the face of Isabella Swan and her screams.

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	2. Chapter 2: Confusion

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

**EdwardPOV**

The next day, I was more eager then usual to head to work. It was odd, because it was a Friday, and normally I would dread it. But, for a reason I couldn't understand or voice, I had to see patient 32 and make sure she was okay.

I couldn't get her terror-filled face out of my mind. Even while screaming, her natural beauty shone through. The scream pierced my ears, making me cringe.

At work, I walked past the front desk with a mere nod to Rosalie. She didn't seem to notice. She was leaning back in her chair, talking quietly on the telephone and doodling on a spare piece of paper.

The halls were eerily silent as I stepped through them. Was it just today, or were my footsteps always this loud? I was only too aware of the noise.

When I reached the lounge, I poured myself a cup of coffee and flipped absentmindedly through a patient's folder. I heard footsteps, and I lifted my head to see Mariah and Alice step in, heads inclined as they talked quietly to each other.

They didn't seem to notice me, until I coughed. "Good morning." I said cautiously. "Good morning, Edward." They said in unison. Alice stifled a laugh as she bounced over to the coffee machine. Yeah, like she needed more caffeine.

"You can probably go home after lunch, on call, Edward. It's slow today." Mariah said quickly, before grabbing a cup of coffee and leaving the room. I raised an eyebrow at Alice.

She sat down on a couch across from me, balancing the cup of coffee on her knee. I eyed it nervously. "So, Edward." She began. "We need someone on call to Isabella at all times… you up for it?" She took a sip of coffee, an unreadable expression on her face. I paused.

"You think…I could?" I said carefully, not mentioning the other day's events. She knew what I was talking about. She rotated the coffee cup, turning it on her knee. "You should at least try." Then, she looked up, a slight look of mischief and mystery upon her face.

"I think today will be different."

Alice did that sometimes. She'd say something mysterious, as if she knew exactly what was going to happen and was just sort of pushing you in the right direction.

She nodded towards the door, grinning. I raised an eyebrow, rising from my seat. I went into the hallway, heading towards Room 32.

I'd barely taken three steps when I heard a CRASH and loud swearing from the lounge. I stepped back, stifling a laugh as I saw Alice standing there, her pants and the floor covered in coffee. "I forgot the cup was there." She said sheepishly, nudging the ground.

I started laughing, ducking out of the room and heading to room 32. I arrived there quickly.

My stomach turned, worried about what would happen. Alice had seemed certain things wouldn't turn out the same. But then, what trust did I dare put in Alice?

I turned the knob and stepped inside.

Isabella Swan was not in her bed. I blinked, surprised. Then I saw her. She was standing by the window. Even though the blinds were closed, she was staring, like she could see something there. She was absentmindedly scratching one arm.

I coughed. She turned her head slightly, her gaze sweeping the room until her chocolate eyes landed on me. "Um…do you need anything?" I said, my tongue feeling like cotton. She was silent, and I was afraid she was going to start screaming again. But then she spoke.

"No, thank you." Her voice was soft and musical. Her tone was slightly flat, like someone who'd just been crying. But it took me by surprise by the _beauty _it held. It was the perfect voice, a singers dream. Words left me for a moment, but I tried to clear my mind.

She took a step foreward, her arms swinging like a child's. I noticed her fists were clenched.

"I'm Bella." She said, stopping at the side of her bed. "I'm Edward," I said cautiously. "Are you…are you hungry?" I asked.

"No." Isabella…Bella said flatly, her fists opening. A few things fell out, landing softly on her bed. I think they were Polaroids. Her voice was duller now, but still holding its musical tone.

"Well…you can always press that button if you need anything." I said, uncertain if she'd heard me the other day. Her eyes followed me as I started to back out of the room. "I know." Bella said flatly, her fists clenching around the photographs again.

Her eyes followed me as I turned to leave. I was out the door then, a few steps down the hall…

"Wait!"

Her voice rang out desperately.

I stepped back into the room.

She was still at the edge of her bed, her fists clenched tightly around the photographs. Her eyes were closed, lines of frustration and confusion etched into her forehead as she furrowed her brow.

"Where am I?" She asked quietly, her voice ridden with pain and confusion. It was almost too quiet for me to hear.

I didn't know what to say. Everything felt frozen around me as I struggled to find the correct words to say what I had to.

"Your home, Bella."

Her eyes flew open, her fists opening and the photographs fluttering to the floor.

"NO!" She screeched, her eyes flashing and then filled with hate and pain at the same time. Her voice strained.

"Bella—" I said quietly, stepping towards her.

"WHERE AM I? WHERE IS HE? WHAT HAPPENED?" She screamed, crumpling to the ground. She hit her fists on the floor, screeching. "TELL ME!" Tears streamed down her face.

I didn't know what to do.

I didn't know what to say.

I slid wordlessly out of the room, stepping out of Mariah's way as she ran in, shutting the door behind.

"Edward." Alice whispered from behind me, seeming to know the confusion, frustration and ache I was feeling. She put her hand on my arm.

I shrugged her hand off silently, and walked slowly down the hall. Alice's gaze was still on me, and my footsteps were loud as ever.

**Review if you liked.** **(:**

**I try to update as much as possible. I write this for an hour or so on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. :D.**


	3. Chapter 3: Haunted

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

**EdwardPOV**

The night before, I hadn't slept. Not for a minute, not a second. My mind was occupied with thoughts of the beautiful Isabella Swan. Only now, I could picture her with tears streaming down her face, with only too perfect clarity.

Her screams plagued my thoughts, filling my ears until I could hear nothing else. I could hear her confusion and anger and cries, all at once.

My stomach twisted uncomfortably as I recalled her frightened words. How I couldn't help her. I'd made it _worse._

And I couldn't get away. Alice had informed me, her tone with just a touch of apology, that she'd already signed me up for Isabella Swan's assistant—I was on call for her 24/7.

There was no way I could do that. How could I go in there everyday, delivering food and helping a woman I caused such obvious agony for—and who in return caused me endless hours of guilt and confusion?

When my alarm clock ran that morning, five on the dot, I pulled myself out of the armchair I'd be resting in. For a split second, I felt fine—like I hadn't just spent the night drinking hot chocolate and staring out the window. But then a shiver ran down my spine, and weariness hit—striking every bone in my body and causing me to stagger back.

My first instinct was to call in sick. I'd tell Mariah I was struck with a sudden cold—she'd believe it, no doubt.

But Alice wouldn't believe it. She'd assume I was staying home from the patient in room 32—hiding from her. She wouldn't think badly of me for it—but she wouldn't understand. I couldn't let something like this get in the way of my profession. There was a certain shame in it.

Even if she were right. Even if Isabella Swan were most of the reason why I was now standing perfectly still in my living room, debating whether or not to go to work. I felt like a child.

And so I pulled on my scrubs and drove to work like every other morning. But of course, it _wasn't _like any other morning—because I was still exhausted and my thoughts were still haunted by Isabella Swan.

When I walked into the asylum that morning, Rosalie stopped typing for once to shoot me an apologetic glance. I scowled, wondering what Alice had told her. I quickly walked down the hallways, stopping in the lounge to get the coffee I desperately needed.

Alice was bent over a table in the back, Angela next to her. They were flipping through a patient's folder, whispering to each other. I ignored them, quickening my pace to the coffee machine and grabbing a mug, downing it quickly. When I turned back around, Alice and Angela had straightened and Angela had shut the folder.

"Edward, I was looking for you earlier." Alice said briskly, her eyes sparkling slightly. "Good morning, Alice, Angela." I said, raising an eyebrow.

Angela nodded her good morning before walking out of the room. I heard her shoes clacking down the hallway. It was silent for a moment, and then Alice spoke.

"Here." She stuck her hand in her back and then extended her open palm to me. There was a beeper. I looked at her questioningly. "Oh right. I forgot that this was your first time being on call for a patient." My stomach twisted as I reached out to take the small black object.

"You have to clip this on to your belt or something and keep it on you at all times. If Isabella ever needs you, she can press the button on her bed and _that_ will beep." Alice finished. I nodded, my head pounding as I clipped it onto my pocket.

"So where were you this morn—" Alice began but she was interrupted by a tinny beeping sound. We both glanced down to the beeper, which was making the noise. The screen was flashing red. My eyes widened, images of Isabella Swan immediately filling my head. I clenched my fists. _What was happening to me??_

"Don't keep her waiting. Go." Alice seemed to acknowledge my fears silently as I rushed out of the room.

This time, I didn't hesitate before opening Isabella's door. After all, this was just work. But it didn't keep my stomach from continuing to do flips.

Like before, my heart stopped momentarily upon sight of her flawless face. She was on the edge of her bed, rocking back and forth. She didn't look at all surprised to see me. "Good morning, Isabella." I said quickly. "Bella." She corrected me, her tone still beautiful but slightly flat.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked uncertainly. "Not exactly." She said, pondering her response before speaking again. "But, can I get a piano?"

I was silent. What did she mean, could she get a piano? I wasn't even sure that was allowed. "Do you…play?" I asked, stalling.

She noticed my hesitance and hurried on. "Since I was four. I really want to. I can pay for it myself, I think." Her eyes darkened and a flash of anger flitted across her beautiful face. "Someone took my purse. But I think it was someone from _here._"

It was, of course. Whatever was on a patient was put in a safely put in safes.

"I…I don't know…I could ask…" I stuttered. "Okay." She said serenely, her perfect features relaxing. She didn't say anything else, and her eyes followed me as I walked out of the room.

Luckily, I found Mariah pretty quickly. "Good morning, Edward." She said peacefully. "Good morning. Um, I have a little problem.." I said hesitantly. She paused, waiting for me to go on. "The patient in room 32 wants a piano. Is that allowed?"

Mariah looked incredulous. "A piano? How would you get that up there? And how would we pay for this?" I paused. "Well, she said she could pay for it. And I think maybe she could just get a keyboard…"I trailed off.

"I'll talk to her." Mariah said quickly. I trailed after her as she rushed off, my feet dragging. She rushed into Isa—I mean, Bella's room, and gently closed the door behind her. I was left alone with my thoughts.

Bella—Isabella [I couldn't bring myself to call her by a nickname. I'm not sure why.] seemed fine. Why did she change so much like this? She had acted just fine—almost normal. My mind raced, trying to find an answer, but then Mariah came back out.

"She can have a keyboard. For now, that is." She said, a smile playing on her lips. I nodded. "Follow me, please. I'll get you the money she needs from her safe, and show you where it is."

Ten minutes later, I was clutching a couple hundreds in my hand. Mariah had lost in me in how exactly the money thing worked in transferring the money and everything, but I'd find out later.

I figured I'd go tell Isabella that she was getting her piano—a keyboard, at least—and ask her if she had a specific type in mind.

I paused outside the door. I was being stupid. She was acting just fine. Maybe she'd act like that from now. She could be out of here in no time—but my stomach twisted at the thought. I couldn't quite understand why.

My hand was the doorknob when I first heard her.

_Louder, louder  
The voices in my head  
Whispers taunting  
All the things you said  
Faster the days go by and I'm still  
Stuck in this moment of wanting you here_

I froze.

A million things ran through my head at once.

I was struck with the sheer beauty of it—like every emotion of her mind and soul was going into the words. A voice anyone would have killed for. It was very quiet, like whispered lyrics. But it was pure and untouched, and I felt guilty for listening.

But I couldn't pull myself away from the door.

_Time  
In the blink of an eye  
You held my hand, you held me tight  
Now you're gone  
And I'm still crying  
Shocked, broken  
I'm dying inside_

Then I was turning the knob, the lyrics sinking in and making my insides flip. The door was open, and I could see now—the beautiful voice was slightly louder. Isabella's eyes were shut, and her legs her pulled up to her chest. She hadn't noticed me.

_Where are you?  
I need you  
Don't leave me here on my own  
Speak to me  
Be near me  
I can't survive unless I know you're with me_

I knew I shouldn't be listening. This was wrong. But I couldn't. I was stuck. My mind was racing. I watched in awe as Isabella's fingers slowly traced letters onto the bed.

_Shadows linger  
Only to my eye  
I see you, I feel you  
Don't leave my side  
It's not fair  
Just when I found my world  
They took you, they broke you, they tore out your heart_

_I miss you, you hurt me  
You left with a smile  
Mistaken, your sadness  
Was hiding inside  
Now all that's left  
Are the pieces to find  
The mystery you kept  
The soul behind a guise_

_She was making up these lyrics, _I realized. Isabella Swan was smarter then anyone had ever guess. A genius. But I couldn't ponder that. I was getting a glimpse into the past of _Bella. _And it was apparently worse and more complicated then I'd ever imagined.

_Where are you  
I need you  
Don't leave me here on my own  
Speak to me  
Be near me  
I can't survive unless I know you're with me_

_Why did you go?  
All these questions run through my mind  
I wish I couldn't feel at all  
Let me be numb  
I'm starting to fall_

With a sinking feeling in my chest, I noticed she was crying. But her voice was still perfect, unwavering.

_Where are you?  
I need you  
Don't leave me here on my own  
Speak to me  
Be near me  
I can't survive unless I know you're with me_

Where are you?  
Where are you?

You were smiling…

And then I was out of the room—running, almost—shutting the door silently behind me. I didn't want to hear any more. I shouldn't have heard it at _all. _

But I still had work to do. I had to buy Isabella a piano.

Maybe so she could write music to that song.

Isabella Swan had a past, I realized now.

I was going to see what that was.

**The song; **

**Haunted by Kelly Clarkson**


	4. Chapter 4: Concrete Angel

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

**EdwardPOV**

The look on Isabella's face when I'd presented her with her keyboard the next day was priceless.

A single expression—filled with the purest joy and happiness you could imagine. But she didn't smile—her eyes widened, her eyebrows raised, and her cheeks filled with color—but she didn't smile.

It was good enough for me. The expression was now forever kept in my mind, replaying over and over.

"Thank you." She'd said, untangling herself from her sheets when I'd walked in. I'd already taken the keyboard out of the box and everything, and had rolled it in on its wheels.

Two words that lit up my day and wouldn't stop replaying themselves over and over in my head.

It was strange how the slightest reactions from her would be major. Isabella Swan was certainly different—more unique then anyone I'd ever met. She was still a mystery, though.

And so now it was hours later, and I was very happy that we hadn't seemed to have much business or problems today. Most of the day, I'd been sitting in the nurses lounge, staring into empty space. According to Alice, I looked 'deep in thought'. Which I was, I suppose.

The time had flown by very quickly. Suddenly it was seven—dinner time here. I went to the kitchen to get Isabella's food. I was moving much faster then usual—eager, of course. I muttered a quick 'thanks' to the waitress who handed me her tray and then hurried to her room.

The door was open just a little, so that I could see the dark inside. The lights were turned off. I carefully pushed the door open, balancing the tray in one hand.

Isabella was on one side, her flawless features relaxed. Her brown curls were spread around her head like an angels' halo. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing evenly. I was caught off guard at how vulnerable she looked.

I breathed slowly, pushing the door shut silently as to let in no light. I wouldn't want to wake her. I set the tray on her bedside table.

Her eyes opened, and the breath caught in my throat. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw me standing next to her.

But she simply sat up, her facial expression calm. She smoothed her hair with one hand. Her eyes studied me, and I tried to relax.

She didn't scream.

"Edward?" She said, her tone uncertain. I nodded, my insides freezing with fear. But she simply nodded as she turned and let her thin legs swing over the side of the bed.

She didn't question why I was in the room. She must have seen the tray of food.

I tried to distract myself from her gorgeous face, trying to breath regularly again. Instead, I let my eyes drop, my gaze falling on her bandaged arms. That did nothing to sooth me, so I instead turned head to her new keyboard.

A silence filled the room, but it wasn't awkward. More like two old friends, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere.

"I'm not crazy, you know." She said pleasantly. I managed to look at her questioningly. I might have looked doubtful, even though I hadn't meant to, because she went on. "I'm not." She insisted, her voice staying even. "I know you think so. Because of what happened—before."

I was slightly surprised she remembered. I wasn't used to feeling this confused about what a person was thinking. But then, she was harder to figure out then most people.

"You just…reminded me of someone." She said, her voice tightening. She swallowed.

"Isabella…" I said uncertainly.

"Bella." She corrected, her voice faint. She hugged her knees up to her chest. I knew I was losing her.

Isabella Swan was like two different people. I was seeing the real her right now—and I couldn't loose that quite yet. Maybe I was being selfish—but I couldn't.

I tried to distract her. "Can you play me something on the piano?" I suggested half-heartedly, certain that she was about to scream or cry—something that signaled me to leave.

But at these words, she lifted her head. Her chocolate eyes met with my green ones. She didn't look away. She looked like she was concentrating very hard. Then she swung forward off the bed, landing silently on her feet.

Then she was on the bench I'd placed in front of the keyboard, her fingers resting on the keys. I moved silently, until I was behind her.

That was when she started playing.

Her fingers moved expertly across the keyboard, playing a tune I'd never heard before.

Then, to my surprise, to my horror, to my _amazement---_she sang.

_She walks to school with the lunch she packed  
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back  
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday  
she hides the bruises with the linen and lace _

Her voice was quiet and pure, yet it rang out and filled every corner of the room. I noticed her eyes were closed, but she didn't miss a beat.

_The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask  
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask  
Bearing the burden of a secret storm  
Sometimes she wishes she was never born_

She was singing about herself, I realized, horror dawning in. I felt my face pale and my pulse quicken. Because Isabella Swan, for whatever reason, was letting me in on her past.

_Through the wind and the rain  
She stands hard as a stone  
In a world that she can't rise above  
But her dreams give her wings  
And she flies to a place where she's loved  
Concrete angel_

At this time, I felt numb. A strange feeling had spread over me, blurring everything around the edges. I could have noticed the way her delicate fingers flew over the keys. I could have listened to her flawless voice fill the room, or wonder how she could write lyrics on the spot. But all I noticed was the pain hidden behind her voice, threatening to break out at any moment.

_Somebody cries in the middle of the night  
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights  
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate  
When morning comes it'll be too late_

Her voice cracked, and finally her pain and anger was out in the open, releasing her vulnerabilities.

_Through the wind and the rain  
She stands hard as a stone  
In a world that she can't rise above  
But her dreams give her wings  
And she flies to a place where she's loved  
Concrete angel_

_A statue stands in a shaded place  
An angel girl with an upturned face  
A name is written on a polished rock  
A broken heart that the world forgot_

And then the blurriness was gone, and I could see everything in perfect clarity—especially the way Isabella was crying now. Tears were streaming down her face, but her voice stayed perfect.

_Through the wind and the rain  
She stands hard as a stone  
In a world that she can't rise above  
But her dreams give her wings  
And she flies to a place where she's loved  
Concrete angel_

Then the room was silent.

Isabella removed her hands from the keyboard, and they fell listlessly to her side. Then she turned her eyes to me, tears still streaming down her face.

"I—" I started, trying to say something, anything—to make her feel better.

"Please distract me." She whispered, her dark eyes locked to my lighter ones.

I struggled for words.

"Well, I'm Edward Mason Cullen. I was born on June 20th, 1990 in Chicago, Illinois…"

And then I couldn't stop talking. I told her about my family, my childhood, my high school. I was only slightly aware of the words I was saying. But she had stopped crying, and that was all I needed to keep talking.

For now, I was distracted. But I knew that this would mean another sleepless night.

Because Bella Swan was letting my in on her secrets.

**Yes, another crappy ending to a chapter. I always have a hard time with those. Ah, well. Sorry for the lack of updates—it was Halloween weekend, after all. :D. Review if you liked, please! **

**Song- Concrete Angel by Martina McBride**


	5. Chapter 5: Disturbed

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

**EdwardPOV**

It felt like hours later when I finally stopped talking, but the clock informed me that it had only been around twenty minutes. Isabella Swan—I couldn't bring myself to call her 'Bella', still, it sounded too…_weird—_had stayed completely silent the entire time.

The room fell silent, and my words seemed to hang in the air. I'd said everything about myself that I could think of, spilled out my soul to this girl I'd only just met, and this time the silence _was _awkward. She seemed to be processing what I was saying.

"I was born in 1990, too." Isabella said finally, almost whispering, her dark eyes closed. "I'm not sure of my…" She paused. "Exact birthday."

There was another pause.

She slid off the cushioned piano bench, making her way over to her bed. Isabella leaned back, her body settling itself onto the bed, disturbing the sheets only slightly. Her hands reached to her bedside table, closing around only one of the Polaroid pictures that were lying there.

And then she held out her hand with the picture in her palm, motioning for me to come forward. I managed to move my feet from my spot, which seemed impossible. But I found myself inching forward towards the beautiful girl, my eyes dropping to the photograph.

It was a color photograph of two people. One, a tall, thin woman wearing khaki's and a button-down pink shirt. Her face bore hints of wrinkles yet to come. Her hair was reminiscent of Isabella's, the color, at least. I could tell from just the photograph that her hair was thick and flowing. The second was a little girl around the age of six. I recognized her as Isabella herself immediately.

Her hair hung limply around her face, and the ends were tangled. She was wearing a faded yellow sundress with lace embroidery around the edges, an off-white unbuttoned sweater, and no shoes. The little girls arm was stretched out toward the woman's' elbow, but the woman didn't seem to take any notice.

The main difference was their _expressions—_Isabella was beaming hopefully at the cold woman, while the woman was staring blankly at the camera.

"Me. And Renée." Isabella said. A pause.

"My mother." She clarified. I nodded, hesitantly reaching towards her hand. But Bella quickly closed her fist, pulling her arm back close to her. She didn't even glance at the picture before crumpling it back up into a ball and setting it back onto the bedside table beside the others.

Isabella pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. Her eyes wandered, looking everywhere in the room except for directly at me. "She left when I was eight. I haven't seen her since." Her tone turned bitter. "She could be dead, for all I care. She probably overdosed."

Another paused. I should have said something. But what was there to say? _I'm sorry_? It seemed too…I don't know, informal. Or maybe rude. I'd basically just met her, after all.

"Isabella..." I started, but I had no idea what I was going to say. Luckily, she interrupted me. Louder this time, louder then I'd ever heard her. But still, it was not even near a normal voice level. She had a tiny voice, like she was afraid something was going to happen any second and she had to be prepared.

"Bella." She corrected, finally making eye contact with me. It was only for a split second, and she quickly moved her gaze to a spot on the wall somewhere to the left of me. I noticed she blinked a few times and shook her head, her brow furrowed.

"My father died when I was little. I don't remember him." Bella said. And from then on she was _Bella, _not a patient named Isabella but a _person. _A person with thoughts and feelings and a past, a person who preferred nicknames instead of a birth name.

"I was an only child." She said wistfully, wringing her hands. "And I was _quiet—_very quiet. I didn't have many friends. One, though—a girl named Katherine." Bella's face was blank of expression, I noticed. Her big eyes stared into empty space, but she kept talking. And I listened.

"Katherine moved away a little bit after Renée left. I was living with my grandmother. Shay, she told me to call her. She died later, too. I should have expected it, though. She was old." Bella fell silent.

We stayed in those positions—me, standing at the foot of her bed, Bella, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes closed—for what seemed like forever.

Then I moved foreward, my footsteps deafeningly loud. I moved my hand to hers—and she stopped.

I swore that she stopped breathing. She was completely still. Startled, I pulled my hand away. Bella stayed frozen for a second longer, and then she moved.

I watched in horror as her legs flailed out straight in front of her, and her hands fell limply into her lap. She pulled her legs up again to her chest and her whole face scrunched up in clear pain and confusion.

And then her eyes flew open. I saw the last flicker of Bella evaporate. "No." She whispered, her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

Then she was Isabella Swan again, patient in room 32. Someone who had to be controlled.

**I was gonna write more to the end of this chapter, but then I was just like, nah. I won't. So I didn't. So it was a short chapter.**  
**Hey, it's been a while! I dunno, time went really fast. I'm not sure if I like this story anymore, though. Should I continue ? You tell me. Review. (:**


	6. Chapter 6: Renée

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

**EdwardPOV**

I dreamt of Bella that night.

I remember it vividly.

I'd watched as Bella ran—down twisting hallways that never ended. Around corners. Her face was without any expression. Even in my dream, she was flawlessly gorgeous.

Then she ran into a room full of mirrors. It was obvious she couldn't get out of the room—she seemed to give up. Her face filled with terror and she screamed—that scream that I couldn't get out of my head, so filled with anger and sadness and anguish.

I woke up screaming also.

The next day as I entered the asylum, it was strangely quiet, a low hum of electricity flowing through the air. Rosalie was typing at the front desk. The keys were the only things I heard. We exchanged greetings as usual.

Two hours later, I heard a car screech into the parking lot outside the building. I knew it was our parking lot because there were no other buildings around. This wasn't unusual. People usually hurried when they came here, because either one of the workers here found them injured or drugged-up, or a family member was incredibly concerned.

I paid no attention. I didn't even glance out the window.

I should have.

I should have prepared myself.

The next thing I heard was screaming from downstairs. Loud. Very, very loud. I heard quick footsteps behind me, and the next thing I knew, Alice was running past me. She gave me a quick glance before motioning for me to follow her.

"I'm guessing I'm gonna need back up on this." She said grimly. I didn't question her. Alice just knew things like that. So I hurried after her.

As we grew closer to the front entry, I began to make out some words Rosalie was saying. "Madame…….please…..calm….." But the rest of the words were lost in the persons increasingly loud voice, screaming something. I couldn't understand what.

When we reached the front entryway, I saw that Rosalie had risen from her desk. She was taking tiny steps towards the person, a woman, I could see now, in an attempt to calm her down.

The woman was tall, and rail-thin. It had to be the results of an unhealthy diet, or drugs. Her skin was wrinkled horribly. Her hair looked greasy and was in a very messy bun.

I felt like I'd met her somewhere before.

Her face bore a minor resemblance to someone—but I couldn't put my finger on it. Perhaps someone back in high school? I couldn't place it.

"Hey!" Alice yelled. There was no hint of humor anywhere in her voice or facial expression. Her mouth was set in a thin line.

The room quieted for a moment.

"What's going on here?" Alice hissed.

The woman swallowed, her eyes set on Alice. "I," The woman croaked, her voice crackling, like a smokers. "Want to see my daughter."

Silence. No one responded.

The woman's voice rose. "I have a right. I have MY RIGHTS. SHE'S MY DAUGHTER."

"Who are you, Madame?" Alice said slowly, her tone serious. "Who is your daughter, and why do you think she's here?"

"Renée Swan. I'm here for _my _daughter, Isabella." Her tone was wobbly.

My blood chilled.

I knew now where I'd seen her face.

Alice's eyes tightened the tiniest bit.

"We don't have anyone here of that name." She lied perfectly, not a hint of doubt in her voice. I almost believe her.

I couldn't take my eyes of the woman Bella despised. I hated her, too—already.

"Don't screw with me. I know she's here. She's coming with me." Renée hissed, her voice rising again.

"I don't think so. She's of legal age. She goes _nowhere _with you." I said. My voice was deadly calm. "And we'd all appreciate it if you got the hell out."

"NO!" The woman screamed, hurtling past Alice. But Rosalie was standing there, blocking the only way she could go. Rosalie stood her ground, even as Renée tried to punch at her.

I ran over to help her. I noticed Alice reaching for the phone, dialing 911. She spoke quietly into the receiver for only a minute, and then hang up.

I didn't know what she was on, although it was obviously something. I didn't know why she wanted Bella, and I didn't want to know. I didn't know how she knew Bella was here.

I didn't know.

But as I struggled to keep Renée back, as the police sedated her and took her away, as everything went back to normal, or as normal as it could get after that, I knew one thing.

I was beginning to fall in love with Isabella Marie Swan.

I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. Besides the dream sequence at the beginning and the end, it was more of a filler then anything else. I felt like I hadn't updated in ages. So here you go.

Watch out for the next chapter—I think you might get to see inside Bella's head for once.

Make sure you check out my other fan fictions, Heat and Dangerous Threat.

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving!


	7. Chapter 7: Tell Me A Story

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Description: Edward Cullen is working at a local mental asylum, where he meets the beautiful and mysterious new patient, Isabella Swan, a quiet girl with a dark past. Will either of them ever be the same? All Human. Slight song fiction.**

Edward POV

As I found out more and more about Bella, I only grew more interested. Although parts of her past had recently uncovered to me, I still wanted to know more. It was almost like an addiction, of which I'm sure was unhealthy for both me and her. After all, she was in here for reason, although I still wasn't sure about what that reason was.

The scars on her arms were fading more and more every day, to faint pink scars. I wasn't sure if they'd ever fade completely, they seemed very deep. But they were definitely healing. I could see. I saw her frequently, and she no longer screamed when I spoke to her. At night, it was different. She shook uncontrollably in her sleep, from terror. She screamed. I hated hearing it, as it rung down her hall even in the middle of the day. She slept a _lot. _

When she wasn't sleeping, she was playing the piano. Constantly. It would have been slightly annoying, if the music hadn't been so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. It almost pained me to interrupt her playing, if I had to. She often became so absorbed in the music she forgot to eat. Her fingers moved flawlessly over the keys, creating beautiful melodies. But I hadn't heard her singing again.

I noticed every single little thing about Bella. I told myself it was purely profession, that I needed to know the patient to help the patient.

I noticed how she never smiled. Not once. A few times I caught a hint of a smile. Actually it wasn't even that. It was a like a shadow of a smile, playing far from the surface, like it was afraid to come out.

I noticed how the Polaroid pictures still never seemed to leave her sight. If she was playing piano, they were right next to her. If she was sleeping, they were clenched tight in her fist. I knew what one of them was, but the other two were still shrouded in mystery. I was perversely interested in what they were of.

Lately, I hadn't been able to sleep much. Sleep evaded me, and I spent countless nights trying to lull myself to sleep. It almost never worked, and I left for work very early. It didn't really matter, as I was up anyway. The strange thing was, I barely felt tired.

This morning I sat on the counter, sipping coffee in an attempt at getting caffeine in my system. It was barely seven. Much to my surprise, several other employees were already here. I broke out of my thoughts as Angela and Alice strode into the room, talking quietly and occasionally laughing. I slid off the counter quickly, nodding my hello's to them.

Alice looked as energetic as always. It didn't surprise me. She was the kind of person who looked like she would always be happy, even in the middle of the night. Then again, unlike me, she probably got to sleep. Angela, an intern like me, was my age. She was mostly quiet and serious.

They both approached me, but halfway there, Alice's eyes widened slightly and then smiled apologetically. "Oh! I forgot to—oh, boy. Ugh! I gotta go!" She said, turning on her heel and then rushing out. I grinned slightly. Alice had been very absentminded lately. I guess she had a lot on her mind.

"So," Angela stated, smiling kindly at me. "What are _you _doing here at this ungodly hour?" Her smile was contagious, I smiled back. Perhaps I was in a good mood today, against all odds. "Couldn't sleep. No where else to go." I shrugged. "What about you?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "Alice insisted on driving me. Something about seeing the inside of her new car? I don't remember, I wasn't really paying attention." Angela grinned sheepishly.

Something clicked in my brain, and I cocked my head to the side slightly in interest. "Hey, weren't you that one who found that girl on the side of the road a few days ago?" I faintly remembered Alice mentioning that in passing. Yes, I was sure of it. I admit it, I was curious to what Angela had to say about Bella. It might help me figure her out a little better.

Angela, however, looked confused. "No, I think your thinking of someone else. I was visiting my parents for the last few weeks. I wasn't here."

I paused, also confused. "Really? I was sure…" I trailed off, realizing how foolish I sounded. I must of misunderstood Alice.

There was an awkward silence. Luckily, at that moment, Alice hurried back into the room, a set of keys dangling from her hand. I looked at her questioningly. "I forgot to close my sun roof on my car." She answered my silent question, smiling. We made mindless chat for a few minutes before Angela rushed off to attend to a patient. Before Alice could leave, too, I caught her shirt by the sleeve.

She looked up at me with expecting eyes. I knew my question would probably sound stupid, but it was bugging me. I just blurted it out. "Who did you say brought that patient in? Isabella Swan, that is."

Alice glanced at me uncertainly for a second. "Um…it was Angela, right? Yeah, it was. That's what Rosalie says, and she's the one who admitted Isabella."

"But Angela says she didn't bring her in." I said impatiently, as if Alice should have known this all alone. "So who was it?"

She looked slightly taken aback by my tone, and when she responded, her voice matched mine. "I don't know. Who cares? Someone who looks like Angela, I guess." With that, she turned and left. I groaned. Of all the days for Alice to be in a slightly bad mood, she chose today.

But if Angela didn't bring her in, who did?

Why did I care so much?

I pushed away the nagging question, and took a final sip of coffee before tossing it in the garbage. Striding out of the room, I headed towards Bella's room to wake her up. I wasn't supposed to let her sleep too late in the mornings, according to Mariah. It was confusing to me, because Mariah didn't care if Bella slept during the day.

When I entered, I expected Bella to be in her bed, fast asleep. The bed was empty. Automatically, I glanced towards the piano, although no music was playing. Then I saw her, crouched down by the side of the bed. The three Polaroid pictures were scattered on the ground beside her.

I entered silently, but she looked up right away. "Oh." She said, her tone distracted. "It's you." I wasn't sure who else she expected it to be, but all I said was, "What are you doing?" I said, my eyes following her as she stood up and crossed the room to the small set of drawers, which were empty besides a mandatory bible.

"Ugh!" She finally exclaimed, throwing her hands up in disgust. "I hate it here! There's nothing to do! I want to do something! And this room! It's just white. There's no color. It doesn't even look like any one even lives here, besides the piano." She looked at me desperately, like she expected me to do something about it.

For a moment, I just blinked, taken aback by this unexpected outburst. Bella sounded…well, alive. Like a normal person. A normal person that hated her room. Her voice, it sounded like a real girl, not just a dead recording of one. Color had returned to her cheeks.

And also, I had no idea what to say anyway. No one had ever complained about the room before. Usually they were too freaked out about being here to complain about something as trivial as the colors of the wall.

"Oh." I finally said, unable to think of anything else.

Bella rolled those chocolate eyes. "Fine. You can't do anything about it. I get it. Well, I need something to do. Here, I've got it. Tell me a story." She stopped pacing, and perched on her bed. Her eyes were on me expectantly, and so, without any other option, I walked over to sit on the piano bench, a few feet away from her.

"A story." I repeated. "I'm not a very good story teller, I'm afraid." She shrugged her thin shoulders. "I don't care." She said stubbornly, her eyes still fixed on me. I couldn't resist her expression, and I felt myself being controlled by this girl.

Although I did in fact tell a story, I am being serious when I don't remember what I talked about. Bella stayed perfectly still during the entire thing, and her gaze was on me the entire time, like in a trance. I enjoyed it so much that I stretched the story on and on until I ran out of ideas and said it was the end.

"That was very good." Bella said appraisingly, a shadow of a smile on her face. "You're too kind." I said, grinning, in hopes of drawing a real smile out of her. Unthinkingly, I reached over and playfully ruffled her hair, like we were the best of friends.

We both froze.

I withdrew my hand immediately, cursing at myself in my head. How could I be so stupid? I'd forgotten for just a second that I was the doctor and she was the patient. I'd slipped up for a split second, and I was going to pay for it now. I braced myself for the screaming that was sure to come. The tears.

Bella didn't move for another moment, but her eyes had fallen closed. She shuddered suddenly, her eyes flying open to meet my frantic ones. Bella took a deep breath and then locked her eyes to mine. She shuddered once more, and shook her head quickly.

"I'll tell you a story, too." She said quickly, the trace of a smile completely gone for her face. In a completely graceful movement, she slid off the bed, grabbed one of the Polaroid's, and wrung her hands quickly before handing it to me.

"Stories are never complete without illustrations." She said softly, glancing at me before her eyes fell back to the picture. I lowered my eyes to the picture.

**So it's been a long time since last update.  
SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY.**

**I kept telling myself I would update and I never got around to it!**

**Oh well. Kinda a cliff hanger. Review for a MUCH quicker update then last time, I swear! ;) **


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